


Sapphire Lenses

by Glambertal



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Author still can't use italics, Dark, F/M, Insecure Magnus Bane, M/M, Magnus Bane-centric, Mentions of Sex, Mentions of Suicide, Past Child Abuse, Suicidal Thoughts, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 08:40:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9227048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glambertal/pseuds/Glambertal
Summary: It was the Magnum Opus of his creations; the ability to formulate a picture so powerfully opposite to the internal, seeping into his skin and presenting itself to others in a image blessed with a the glow of sapphire.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I have a lot of feelings about Magnus Bane. This is a very dark read and does refrence to suicide/suicidal thoughts, child abuse, and alcoholism. 
> 
> Vaguely inspired by both 'Even My Dad Does Sometimes' and 'Make It Rain' by Ed Sheeran. 
> 
> Un-beta'd, all mistakes are my own.

Magnus Bane was a fantastic artist. 

There was the most detailed of masks he could paint, not only on himself, but that he could craft onto others, letting them see him through sapphire lenses. Sapphire, he found, was the most beautiful of gems. Reflecting light and showing only the most beautiful of things, rich and an image of opulence. It was the Magnum Opus of his creations; the ability to formulate a picture so powerfully opposite to the internal, seeping into his skin and presenting itself to others in a image blessed with a the glow of sapphire. 

Magnus Bane was the model of power and control. Eight hundred years of life had to have given someone the ability to master every situation, every emotion. He was collected, having run a part of New York's downworld for centuries, and he was infamously known as the one with all the answers. He was old, having experienced almost everything in his long life, and he created the portal, for god sakes. 

But for all he was old and wise, Magnus Bane was also known for being gorgeous. He had been sought after from mundanes, vampires, seelies, werewolves, other warlocks, and even the occasional Nephilim. Mostly brief nights and hushed whispers in the dark before he would leave, mask still perfectly intact, looking the true picture of beauty and poise. 

Magnus Bane drank for fun, seemingly never loosing his grasp on himself. He could always be seen with a wine glass in his hand, or a champagne flute, because really, it added to the elegance and prestige of his general appearance. 

Magnus Bane was not a man who had struggles. He was rich, beautiful, powerful, the kind of man people aspired to be. 

And Magnus Bane was a fantastic actor. 

Because beyond the silks and jewels, through the aura of magic, if one could look through the sapphire, they would see Magnus Bane. 

And Magnus Bane was afraid of water. His step-father harboured a hatred for who he was, who he was born to be. His eyes, gold and slitted, represented not power, but the tainted blood that coursed through his veins. So his step-father brought him to the creek near their home, and held him under.  
He would thrash, kick, but his step-father was a strong man, and Magnus was only a child, skinny and fragile, and his vision darkened with black spots as oxygen was taken from his lungs.  
Until it wasn't.  
His body reacted, fast and violent, and he could breathe. Except then, he couldn't.  
His step-father was lying on the ground, burning, and Magnus was breathless again. He looked at where his hands were still sparking, and he ran. 

He was alone for days before someone found him. 

Magnus Bane was raised by Nephilim.  
The Silent Brothers in Spain taught him about who he was, what he could be, but it was through red. The Nephilim, regardless in which form, believed in the impurity of his blood, the same way he step-father did, and Magnus grew up learning that what was inside of him was something sheerly evil. He was a weapon, nothing more. The power that thrummed under his skin held only destruction, and Magnus would only leave death and corruption in his wake. And Magnus believed it. 

Magnus Bane was not a lothario, its just that he sees these people, and they make him feel temporarily beautiful, rather than the monster he knows he is. It's a pleasant distraction, and Magnus can let himself feel worshipped, remind himself that there are others who don't see him for what he truly is, and it's relieving. It reminds him, when a shadowhunter pushes him against a wall and kisses him breathless, that perhaps not all of them despise him the way he despises himself.  
It's a filthy, beautiful lie. 

Magnus Bane drank because alcohol was a poison, and there were parts of him that he wanted to kill. Bliss was found in a bottle, and he could drink himself numb without worrying about repercussions. It kept him in a near constant state of numbness, where he could forget about his father, both biological and step.  
Where he could forget about the Silent Brothers in Spain and the way they would tell him exactly what kind of morbidity he was.  
Where he could forget about Camille and the abuse she put him through, where he didn't have to feel panic every time she walked into a room.  
Where he could forget the looks of pure disgust and superiority of the shadowhunters as he went through registration.   
Where he didn't have to feel the brutal pain in his chest as Ragnor's death replayed violently in not only him mind, but his body. He always cried anyways. 

Magnus Bane was a crumbling monument. Something that could have once been so beautiful, so breathtaking, but had been put under so much strain that it simply could not stay together any longer. 

He'd never tried to truly kill himself, never made an active plan, but he had once put a gun in his tongue and decided that he didn't like the taste of grease in his mouth. Stood on a rooftop and gotten too cold, so he returned inside. In fact, death was the only thing he hadn't tried.  
Perhaps it was because he'd experienced so much death himself. He had found his mother in their barn, a rope bound tightly to her throat as she hung from the rafters, and he remembers knowing that it was because of him.  
He saw Raphael Santiago throw himself at light in hopes of dying, because the prospect of living as the monster he believed he was was to much for him to bear. Magnus related to the sentiment.  
He'd watched Etta, beautiful and radiating sunlight from the core, slowly wither and grey until she could no longer recognize his face, and it had become to unbearable for him to continue visiting.  
He remembers, most recently, Ragnor, his best friend from centuries past, the first person who had shown him that he could be someone beautiful rather than monstrous, with his throat torn out as he fell from his home's landing. He remembers holding him as life bled from him, trying so hard to save him, but wounds being too deep. He remembers Ragnor finally going lax in his arms, the feeling of everything crumbling under his hands as he thought that perhaps nothing true could ever be permanent in this world.  
He remembers a young Lightwood boy, so unaware of his own beauty and righteousness, try to throw himself towards a demon that would surely kill him, all because someone he loved knew it, and that someone was a boy. 

The feeling of loss, of having truly nothing left, was something so familiar, yet so heartbreaking to witness in another, and he knew that it was never a feeling he'd ever want to inflict on the few who still cared whether he lived or died. 

So he'd continued living, seeking out fleeting joy in a bottle, or a party, or a body, and he continued letting people see only the best, masked parts of him. Letting people see him through sapphire lenses.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I'm so sorry that was so dark. 
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated. Feel free to come discuss more about Magnus Bane (because boy ih boy do I have feelings) with me on twitter: @glambertal  
> Or Tumblr: glambertal


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